


drop by drop

by weatheredlaw



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, Anxiety, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Mild Language, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sibling Bonding, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4777127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>vignettes and drabbles from the twin!verse, where jane and her brother john lead their merry crew on one suicide mission after another. </p><p>(who even <i>knew</i> you could refuse suicidal orders?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. typical, john. typical.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lythnia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lythnia/gifts).



> been promising theo that i was gonna write this shit for a million years. happy belated birthday, this entire thing (all the potential chapters there may be) is for you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's how it usually is -- Jane is busy being accosted by politicians while her brother collects alien friends. Typical.

The first face Jane sees when she wakes up after Eden Prime is her brother's. 

"Oh good. You're alive." He's kidding, but his voice shakes, just a little, just enough to give him away.

She could call him on it, strip away his security as a joke like she used to, like she still does. Instead: "Stop _breathing_ on me."

"Had to get you out of your magic-induced coma," he mutters, helping her sit up. "What the hell happened down there? Where's Jenkins?"

"Dead," Jane mutters, closing her eyes. Her head is aching, thoughts scrambled. "How long was I out?"

"Fifteen hours. So you _should_ feel pretty great."

She groans. "I feel like _garbage._ "

"Matches your complexion." Jane flings her hand out and hits him in the side, but it's half-hearted. John folds his arms around her and she leans against him. "I was worried about you." She should push him away, because this isn't exactly how you treat your XO. And maybe John is aware of that, too aware of it, but Jane doesn't argue, and he doesn't let go. "What happened down there?"

"I wanted to know the same thing." Jane turns and looks up -- Anderson and Chakwas are behind them, Chakwas standing anxiously in the back, saying something like _she needs her rest_ and being drowned out by military gusto. She turns and goes. John lets go and stands at attention. "At ease, son." He looks at Jane and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, sir. Just a little dizzy."

"Understandable. Williams and Alenko gave us the story. Said you got hit by some kind of beam from the beacon down there."

John shifts on his feet, looking unsure. "Sir, the XO's been through a lot today. Maybe we can--"

"No." Jane stands, grabbing him for support. "No, it's fine. I'm fine." She looks at Anderson. "I saw something. Some kind of vision, or maybe a nightmare, I don't know. But it was real. It was incredibly real, sir. Like a message. Someone was trying to tell us something."

"Wish they'd written a damn note," John mutters. "Instead they pump you full of feel-bad and ask you to figure yourself out. Excuse me, sir. Officer." He looks at Jane and nods. "I'm gonna go check in with Williams, make sure she's settling in alright." He squeezes Jane's shoulder before saluting Anderson and taking off. 

"He's fine," Anderson says quietly. Jane opens her mouth to protest -- of course he's fine, he's her brother, he's always fine -- "Alenko told me what happened to Nihlus." Jane nods. "We need to get to the Citadel, talk to the council right away."

"Of course, sir."

"And you should take your brother's advice, for once," Chakwas says, coming back into the room. "You need _rest_ , Shepard--"

"No. I'm going to check on my crew. I'll rest...I'll rest later."

Chakwas rolls her eyes, throws her hands in the air. "Marines. Absolute _worst_ patients."

 

 

 

This is the way it usually is -- Jane is busy dealing with figurative, and sometimes literal, nuclear fallout, being accosted by politicians, while her brother is collecting new alien friends for their crew. Typical.

She looks at him as they're docking, pressed and clean only because she made him -- if John had his way, he'd wear sweaters everywhere and grow his hair six feet long, just to spite someone. Probably her. "Please don't get into trouble."

"I never get into trouble," he says, and behind him, Kaidan laughs. " _Excuse you_ , Lieutenant." Kaidan keeps laughing, holding his hand over his gut while Ashley looks distressed next to him. She's still a little rattled, having trouble adjusting. John sighs and turns back around. "Yes, _ma'am_. I'll be careful, or something." 

"Please try for me. Just this once." 

John grins, throwing an arm around her as they head toward the elevator to C-Sec. "Anything for you, Janey." He gives her a nod and heads off. She knows Anderson's given him his own job to do, try and get on someone's good side, find information on Saren. He's good at that, that gentle push for facts while Jane barrels ahead, guns blazing. 

What Jane dislikes most about the Citadel is sometimes what she loves -- the crowds, the vibrancy and the noise. There are days when the creeping silence of space gets under her skin, makes her think too much about growing up on ships with only her brother for company, her mother always consulting here or there, moving them from one ship to another.

She hasn't spent too much time in front of the council on her own. Anderson will usually bring her as backup, some kind of weird emotional support. He doesn't have kids or a wife, although sometimes she catches him looking at a picture, or leaving someone a message. She could ask, of course, and he'd probably tell her because Anderson looks at her sometimes the way Jane thinks she remembers her father looking at her. But she doesn't push. 

"There simply isn't enough evidence at this time. Our apologies, Saren."

Turians are oddly expressive for a species with so many plates around their mouths, Jane thinks. Her brother would be fascinated with the look on Saren's face. "It's no trouble at all," he says, voice dripping with insincerity. _I'm gonna hit you,_ Jane thinks. _Eventually._

"We need evidence," Udina mutters, leading them down the stairs. He's on her side, Jane knows that, but for some reason the need to hit someone hasn't gone away. Udina would make an excellent punching bag. 

"I ran into a turian on my way up here," she says, instead of _I just don't like you._ "Vakarian or something. Said he was asked to stop investigating Saren. He might know something?"

Udina nods. "Good idea. You should ask Harkin as well, over in Chora's Den. He's former C-Sec. He'll know--"

"Harkin is a drunk," Anderson snaps.

"We can't afford to be picky, not at a time like this."

Anderson scowls. "Fine. If you think it's such a bright idea, _you_ go into Chora's Den, chat up Harkin."

Sometimes, Jane _hates_ men. " _I'll_ go."

Anderson folds his arms over his chest. "You don't have to. There's a volus in the financial district, name's Barla Von. He'd be helpful as well."

"Really, sir. It's no trouble." Jane nods and salutes, turning around and gesturing for Alenko and Williams to follow. 

"We aren't seriously going to go find some washed up C-Sec loser to help us with this, are we?" Jane can tell Ashley's a lone-wolf type, which is fine for her on the ground maybe, but not on the _Normandy._

"Yes. We're trying to convince the council one of their best agents is a megalomaniac. We'll ask whoever we can for help." She turns and raises a hand to speak into her comm. "John, you there?"

_"I am."_

"We're looking for a C-Sec officer named Harkin over in Chora's Den. Meet us there."

John clears his throat. _"I'm, uh. I'm already at Chora's Den. But--"_ Jane cuts him off and sighs. Kaidan is laughing again.

She'll deal with her brother later. "Alright. Let's go."

 

 

 

John isn't drunk, or even really watching the dancers when they get to Chora's. He's sitting in the corner, nursing a singular drink, eyes on the crowd. Jane knows what he's doing -- John's always known that the best way to catch a bad guy is to go where the bad guys live. It's why he doesn't wear his N7 armor, preferring to let Jane wield the long and heavy arm of the law, and it's why he's always just John, Alliance Navy. 

"You guys look like the assholes who brought a pipe bomb to the knife fight." A few customers throw them some uneasy looks and John stands. "Would it _kill_ you to dress down? A little?"

"Yes." Jane takes the drink from his hand and sets it down. "Did you find Harkin?"

"You said his name and I asked around. Already spotted him when I walked in. Seedy type, tossin' those purple things back like those juice rations we used to get on the Tokyo. Remember?" Jane nods, but she's narrowed in on Harkin. "Anyway, he's kind of a dick from what I understand, so play it cool--"

Jane interrupts him by walking over to Harkin and taking the beer from his hand. " _Hey._ "

"You Harkin?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I do. It's why I asked." Jane passes the drink off to a waitress and sits down. "I'm Jane Shepard, just docked with Captain Anderson--"

" _Anderson--_ "

"Yeah. _Captain_ Anderson. And we need to know where we can find Garrus Vakarian."

"That asshole? Probably in the lower wards, hittin' on that doctor. Or dropping off more medical supplies. You just can't tell with turians, can you? Like the face--"

" _Shut up._ "

Harkin isn't scared or nervous and Jane doesn't like it. Cocky, drunken confidence. This guy needs to have shit beat out of him, but she doesn't have the time. Maybe another day. John sighs behind her, because here she's gone and done it again, blown his carefully crafted plan to smithereens while he picks up the pieces. Teamwork, right? 

"I don't know what you're so upset about," she says later in the elevator. 

John leans against the wall, tries to look happy. "Oh, it's no big deal. You just come in and dismantle my perfect operation with your giant marine hands--"

"And what are those things that you have? Dainty, delicate marine hands?" She reaches and pulls him closer. "Relax, okay? Here." She sends the name of the doctor in the lower wards to his omni-tool. "Why don't you go find this turian, and I'll go speak with the uppity volus, okay?"

"Barla Von?" He's leaning over and reading the name off her tool. "He works for the Shadow Broker. Careful, those agents are shady."

"Yeah, I'm aware."

"Alright, alright. Just trying to be a good brother." The door opens to the wards and he steps off. "Alenko, you come with me."

"Yes, sir." 

John waves as the doors close. "Have fun."

 

 

 

For some reason, Jane thinks her brother would be better suited to talk down a krogan, but she manages just fine. John's always good about aliens, about convincing them that, unlike every other human they know, he and his sister are not genocidal scumbags. Urdnot Wrex disagrees, but he comes along anyway. Ashley stands very far away from him on the elevator.

"Got a problem, princess?"

Jane points at him. "Play nice." The tone of her voice must catch him off guard, because Wrex stands up straighter and nods. Ashley relaxes. "Look, I don't -- _ah!_ " Her comm explodes with the sound of gunfire and someone yelling in the background to get down. "John!"

"Hold on!" The gunfire dissipates and the comm cools down. "Okay. Better."

"I told you _not_ to get in trouble."

"I'm not in trouble. Well, I'm kind of in trouble, but I'm taking care of it. The Shepard way." He clears his throat. "I, uh. I found that turian you needed. And other things, too. Look, meet us at Chora's Den again, there's a lot to talk about."

Jane sighs and Wrex speaks up. "I've got a mark at Chora's Den."

"No, you do _not._ You are not _killing_ someone on my watch."

"I'll do whatever I damn well please, _Shepard._ " Wrex pushes past her as the doors open, heading for the rapid transit. "You might not like it, but I don't leave my jobs half done."

Jane sighs, following him. "Well, at least you've got integrity." 

"Ma'am, is this--"

"Williams." Jane puts a hand on her shoulder, trying to be comforting. "Whatever that question is, the answer is probably no."

 

 

 

"Right so this is Garrus, you met him. We're going to find this quarian--"

"She was trying to make a deal with the Shadow Broker. Fist's men--"

"I'm going to kill Fist."

"Are you? That kind of complicates things--"

"Weren't you in C-Sec custody--"

" _Enough!_ " Jane steps between John and his brand new alien best friends with guns. "Everyone _slow down._ Kaidan. Can you please tell me what's happening? Calmly and objectively?"

"Ma'am. Vakarian here was involved in an altercation in the wards. Apparently Fist's men were trying to kill a doctor who treated a quarian who may have information that implicates Saren. She's trying to sell it to the Shadow Broker. I think." 

"Fist decided he didn't want to work for the Shadow Broker anymore," Garrus says, folding his arms over his chest. "He always was a colossal moron."

"And now he's a dead man." Wrex cracks his knuckles. 

"Alright." Jane puts up a hand. "We can't _all_ go into this place, guns blazing. We're still soldiers," she adds, looking at her brother. He shrugs. "Williams, I want you and Kaidan to head to the Ambassador's office and give them the sit rep. The rest of us will go talk to Fist and figure out where this quarian is." Ashley looks a little relieved and follows Kaidan back the way they came. Jane looks at Wrex. "If you shoot Fist--"

"I like your style, Shepard. You'd make an excellent krogan."

" _That_ is my kind of compliment," John says. He reaches around and takes his pistol from its holder on his side. Jane presses her fingers to her temples, closes her eyes, and says a quick prayer to whoever is listening. 

Jane is starting to be less worried about Wrex killing Fist and more worried about whoever is behind all this killing them. She doesn't doubt their new friends can handle a bit of a gun fight, but still. Wrapped up in all this, potential evidence to implicate a Spectre in a crime -- it doesn't make her feel _great._ She leads the way back to Chora's Den, hoping beyond hope that maybe Fist will have a change of heart and welcome them with open arms. Unrealistic idealism was always her forte. And when the first shots are fired, Jane kicks herself for daydreaming. 

She draws her gun on Fist, and it's almost enough to relieve the massive migraine sprouting up at the base of her skull. 

"Where's the quarian?"

"She's not here, I swear!"

"Not good enough," John says.

"I'm not lying, I swear. She would only deal with the Shadow Broker--"

"Impossible." Jane nudges him with her boot. "No one _meets_ the Shadow Broker."

Wrex nods. "Even I was hired through an agent."

"Yeah, well." Fist stands on trembling legs. "She doesn't know that. I told her I'd set up a meeting for her--"

"You mean a _trap,_ " John spits. "Asshole." He turns to Jane. "It'll be Saren's men waiting for her. We can't waste anymore time with this creep."

"I agree." Jane holsters her gun. "You're a fucking idiot, Fist, you know that?"

Fist laughs weakly. "I'm just glad--" Wrex pulls his gun, blows him away. 

" _What the hell?_ " Garrus shouts. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because I was paid to. I told you." Wrex looks at Jane. "I don't leave jobs half-finished." He turns to leave. "You wanna rescue this quarian or debate morality until she's dead? Be a shame to lose her."

"You _do_ realize how ridiculous you sound," Garrus mutters, but follows after him. Jane looks down at Fist, trying to feel bad about bringing Wrex. John puts a hand on her shoulder. 

"Come on. Let's go be heroes."

 

 

 

The quarian's a nice girl, little shaken, but clearly made of tough stuff. Jane hasn't met a lot of her people. 

"Who _are_ you?"

"Shepard," Jane says. "This is my brother. Ah, also...Shepard."

"John."

"Right."

Jane steps closer. "Are you hurt? Do you need to see the doctor again--"

"No, I'm fine. But _Fist_ set me up."

"Fist is dead now," Wrex says matter-of-factly, and the quarian looks at him.

"Good."

"What's your name?" Garrus asks.

"Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. I wish there was some way I could repay you for what you've done for me."

Jane shrugs. "You've got evidence that implicates Saren, from what we understand. Come with us, and we'll get it into good hands."

Tali makes a noise that sounds like relief. "Yes, alright. That's... _keelah_ , that is the first good news I've heard since I arrived here. It's been difficult. C-Sec has been less than welcoming." She glances toward Garrus. His face plates blow out around his mouth and he stands up a little straighter, looks away. Jane rolls her eyes.

"We can take her to your human embassy," Garrus says. "Your ambassador will want to hear what she has."

"Oh man." John laughs, holstering his pistol. "I cannot _wait_ to see Udina's face when we walk in with _three_ aliens."

 

 

 

Udina's face when they walk in with _three_ aliens is pretty priceless. Jane looks at John, who is far more pleased than he should be. He's always known how to ruffle feathers. When Tali plays the recording for them, Udina's expression changes. He looks please, thrilled even. And Jane knows she's supposed to be on his side, but _damn_ there's still something about that face that makes her want to punch his lights out.

Someday, she thinks. Someday.

"This is it!" Udina is giddy. "We can take this to the council, we'll do it right away."

Wrex growls. "I'm not goin' to the council." He turns to Jane. "I'll be on your ship. Normandy, right?" Jane nods. "Good. You're going to need all the help you can get, sounds like." Wrex huffs and stomps out of the room. Udina frowns.

"You are not--"

"We can discuss crew selections later," Anderson says quickly. "Right now we need to get this to the council."

John, silent until now, says quietly, "What's a Reaper?"

Udina looks at him. "What? What does that matter, it's just nonsense. The point is Saren was behind the attack--"

"Yeah, but he's looking for something." John ticks them off on his fingers. "The Conduit, bringing back the reapers. And who's that woman?" 

Udina waves his hand, disregarding John's concerns. She feels him stiffen next to her -- he _hates_ the hand waving. Hates being brushed off. "We can be concerned with that later," Udina says. "Right now, we need to get to the council." He pushes past them, gesturing for them to follow. Tali makes a noise.

"You can come with us," John says kindly. Tali's been on edge since they met her, afraid of Garrus, afraid of Udina, even afraid of Jane and John. But she visibly softens at his words and nods. 

"Yes, alright. That...that would be good." She trails after him as they follow Udina, talking in low voices. John wants to know more about her pilgrimage, why she's left the flotilla, if anyone really gave her too hard a time when she came to the Citadel.

"Your brother is...different," Garrus says. 

Jane laughs. "He's my brother."

"You're both pretty different, actually. For humans. I know a lot, they're a dime a dozen in C-Sec. Met a lot of marine around here, too. But you two...not like anyone I've met before. You travel together, then?" Jane nods. "I've got a sister. She's back on Palaven. Maybe I'll talk her into going on some kind of death mission with me someday."

Jane raises an eyebrow. "You're coming with us, then?"

Garrus nods. "Saren's an embarrassment to turians. It's shameful. If I don't go with you, then it means I'm happy to let it stand. And I'm not." He looks at her. "This matters to me. I'd like to come with you, if you'll let me."

"It would be an honor to have you on board," Jane says. 

Garrus definitely smiles. Jane can tell.

 

 

 

The council doesn't reject their evidence, when Jane figures is a start, but when Udina starts making insane demands, she's one-hundred percent ready to check out. John raises an eyebrow at her when she looks at him. _Feeling's mutual._ Jane's never felt particularly sorry for the council, but she feels a twinge of pity when Councilor Tevos recognizes the woman with Saren as one of her own. Betrayal is never easy.

"Send in your fleet and _end this_ ," Udina says, throwing his hands around, nearly knocking her over. Jane scowls.

Tevos pinches the bridge of her nose. "A fleet cannot find _one_ man, Ambassador. It would be counter-productive--"

"It could secure the area, stop the geth from attacking anymore of our colonies!"

"It could also spiral into a diplomatic _nightmare_ ," Sparatus says. Ah, turian sensibilities. "We cannot risk something like that for the security of a few dozen human colonies." 

"If you will do nothing--"

Jane steps forward, pushing Udina out of the way. "Send me in. Let me take care of Saren. I've got a ship, and I've got a crew."

Valern shakes his head. "It would be incredibly dangerous. And you do not have the clearances or permissions to do many of the things required to hunt down someone as experienced as Saren." He shrugs. "You are also young. Saren will not be easy to catch."

Jane bristles. "I can handle myself, councillor."

Tevos nods. "There is a way--"

" _No._ " Sparatus snaps his head toward her. "Out of the question. It's too soon, and it's too much responsibility."

Tevos sighs. "I disagree. And we need to bring Saren in before he causes more trouble." Her tone is forceful, confident. Sparatus sighs and nods. Valern agrees. 

Behind her, Jane hears her brother whisper, " _Holy shit._ "

She swallows and steps forward when they ask.

 _Yeah,_ she thinks. _Holy shit._

 

 

 

The Normandy is one of the only places Jane feels safe anymore. Out there, all those people, all the politics -- it's something her mother was good at, something John is good at. Making friends and allies, keeping people on your side. Jane, frankly, sucks at it, and she's not afraid to admit if she didn't have John at her side, she might have half as many friends as she does now. She stretches out on her bed, her brand new fancy dual Commander-Spectre status weighing heavy. This was Anderson's ship. And now it’s hers.

She wonders if Joker will let her fly it.

"Jane?" She sits up, and John lets himself in. "Hey." He stops and leans against the wall. "How's it going _Spectre Shepard._ "

" _Ugh._ " She flops back onto the bed.

"Come on, you knew it was going to happen. You can be a little excited."

Jane sighs. "Yeah, I am. But holy shit, John."

"I know."

"I mean, _holy shit._ " She rolls over and he flops onto the bed next to her. "Did I do the right thing?"

"Not sure. Maybe we're all going to get vaporized by sentient robots tomorrow. Maybe we'll get sucked into a blackhole. Maybe Joker will fall and break all his bones and can't fly the ship--"

" _Okay._ I get it."

John looks at her. "My point _is._ You did what you thought you had to do. And you shouldn't start questioning yourself now. Especially since we've already taken off. Like, it'll be really hard to get our spot back if you want to dock again." Jane smacks his shoulder and he laughs. "Feel better?"

"A little."

"Hey." John sits up. "You know what would make you feel good?"

"What?"

"Talking to Alenko."

" _Shut up._ "

"I'm serious. I think he likes you."

Jane gives him a shove and he tumbles right off the bed and onto the floor, howling with laughter.


	2. lazarus taxon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane wakes with a scream caught in her throat, the crystal-shard voice of a woman in her ears -- 
> 
>  
> 
> _Get up, Shepard._
> 
>  
> 
> \-- and all she can do is breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will note now that these are not in any specific order, they just sort of come to me as they come to me. I hope you enjoy this little universe as much as I do.

Jane wakes with a scream caught in her throat, the crystal-shard voice of a woman in her ears -- 

_Get up, Shepard._

\-- and all she can do is breathe.

 

 

 

Fingers caught in her hair, too many sounds, too many lights, too much, too _much_ \-- 

"Get that pistol--"

"I can't _think_ , I--"

"Get that pistol _now_."

"John. _John_ , where is John--" Hands grip the gun, fingers find ammo, unload rounds into bots, into machines why is it always machines, what has she _done?_ "My head--"

"Grow a backbone, Commander, and _move!_ " That voice, like broken glass, but smooth all the same. Jane groans and hauls herself forward and then and _then_ \-- some kind of savior. Says his name is Jacob. Nice face, good with a gun, and honest. He's telling the truth, Jane knows that right from the start. Calls her commander, watches her six, doesn't hold back when she questions him, questions everything. And still, that voice, like glass, crawling through her head. 

Miranda is nothing like glass. Sharp, yes, but unbroken. She shoots without thinking, and Jane can't find it in her heart to feel all that sorry for the piece of shit that sold them out to _mechs._ But she holds everything close, for now. She thinks Jacob is a good kid, and she has a suspicion that she and Miranda come from the same school of thought -- ready, fire, aim -- but working for Cerberus. Fucking _Cerberus._ She wonders what John would think, knows it would make his stomach turn. And then her stomach is turning and she's fighting to keep herself from freaking the fuck out in this little ship, leaving this prison behind. 

Miranda leans back in her chair, legs crosses elegantly in front of her as she cleans her pistol. "We put a lot of time and money into bringing you back, Shepard." She's one of those people who won't look at you when she talks to you, and not because she's fucking anxious about it. Jane doesn't look away. "Be nice to know it wasn't in vain. You asked Jacob about your crew?"

"She--"

"I asked the Commander." Still, no eye contact. Jane straightens her back.

"Where are they?"

"Missing, strewn about the galaxy--"

" _Where is my brother?_ "

At this, Miranda looks up. Sometimes like regret clouds her expression, but Jane only sees it because she's been trained to. After that, it's all cut glass and steel corners. Miranda is a highrise. "We don't know."

"Bullshit."

"If I knew where your brother was, I would have found him two years ago," she snaps. "It certainly would have made things easier. Recreating organs doesn't just _happen_ ," she says. "You have to work at it. If I had your brother's DNA, I could have sped the process along. Unfortunately, he could not be located."

"Did you even fucking _try--_ "

"Yes. Yes I tried. I turned this galaxy inside out. Because I was tasked with bringing you back, and I wanted to do the best damn job I could. But your _brother_ hasn't made himself easy to find. Most of your crew has vanished. T'Soni, Alenko, Vakarian--" She ticks them off, bored already. "They're gone. They lost you, then they splintered. Perhaps you see, now, why your... _ressurection_ was so important." 

_Lazarus,_ Jane thinks. _Lazarus rising from the grave._

Piece of shit metaphor. Miranda's no Christ figure, and Jane hasn't been to church in sixteen years. She tunes out for a moment, and when she listens in again, Miranda and Jacob are bickering about something. About her.

"--can personally vouch that the commander's combat skills--"

"They're no _use_ to us if she can't remember anything." Miranda looks at Jane. "On Virmire. You left Ashley Williams behind."

_No. No, please don't make me say it--_

"I did," Jane says.

"Why?"

"I didn't do it _lightly,_ " she snaps. "I didn't leave Williams behind because it was convenient. She knew it was a possibility, and she knew what might happen. I...I ran out of time. I questioned myself enough when it happened. I won't be made to do it again."

"I'm not debating your leadership skills--"

"Aren't you?"

Miranda smiles. "Hardly. If I felt that way, I wouldn't have made your life my business. Which is what I did." She holsters her weapon, uncrosses and recrosses her legs. "I'm taking you to meet my employer. The Illusive Man will clear up any questions you may have. That he can answer, anyway."

"Yes, he sounds very transparent."

"Don't get cheeky," Miranda says, and the conversation is suddenly over.

 

 

 

There's something about the Illusive Man that reminds Jane of Udina. It's the face, she realizes. She wants to hit it. Repeatedly. With her fist. Maybe something harder, if she can manage it. She questions him again about her crew, gets the same stupid, practiced answer.

"I'm afraid, after they lost you, they scattered. We looked into them for a time, but it was only because we were attempting to find you."

"What about my brother?"

The Illusive Man pauses before taking another drag from his cigarette. Even in this stupid little hologram space, Jane can tell. He's a fucker. 

"Ms. Lawson attempted to locate your brother, but I put a stop to the search. I don't fund non-essential projects, Commander."

Jane feels her body burst into flames.

"My _brother_ isn't _non-essential,_ " she snarls. "If you can't seem to pull your head out of your ass long enough to figure out where he is, I'll do it myself."

He shrugs. "By all means. But, before you do that, I'd like you to join Miranda and Jacob on a bit of an expedition. There's a colony in the Terminus System--" He pulls up a star map and Jane squints to see it. "Freedom's Progress was attacked by an unknown enemy. It's why I put two billion credits into patching you up, Commander. I want to know what this new threat to humanity is, and I'm putting you in charge of finding it." Jane says nothing. "You'll go to the colony, and if you can't be convinced, then I suppose I'll have to find someone else to lead my expedition."

"You can go ahead and start vetting the candidates," Jane says. "When I get back, I'll be leaving."

The Illusive Man nods. "Of course. Just be sure to keep an open mind when you get to the colony though, won't you?"

"Sure thing, thanks for the life advice."

He chuckles. "Good luck, Shepard." 

The hologram fades, and Jane shakes off the feeling of being utterly and completely used. She turns and joins Jacob and Miranda, already trying to sort out a plan. She could steal a ship, start looking for her brother, head back to the Citadel. She wonders if they've revoked her Spectre status, if everyone there knows she's dead, if--

"Are you ready to go?" Jacob's so damn eager, so damn innocent -- Jane wants to smash something, tell him that it's fine, he can hate her if she wants. The feeling would be mutual. But she squashes it down and nods. "Miranda." She doesn't look up from her workstation. "Miranda, we're--"

"I heard you." She closes something down and looks at them. "Let's go."

 

 

 

The ships Jane grew up on were always sterile, always too cold or too warm. She shared a room with John until she was fifteen, and her mother got a permanent placement and a promotion that came with some pretty nice digs. It was harder to sleep after that, harder without his little whistle-snore and the way he'd murmur in his sleep. He always told her he still ducked to avoid her hand that hung over the top bunk every morning, even when the top bunk was gone.

Standing on this God-forsaken colony, the colony God apparently abandoned, Jane is pretty damn grateful for all that cold, endless steel. Every house is one pre-fab after the other, looks exactly the same, and is abandoned, like everyone got up during dinner, and floated up into space. "What the hell?" she mutters. "Are we--"

" _Mechs!_ " Jacob dives behind a tower of crates and Jane takes cover. 

"Why are they attacking us?" Miranda shouts into the comm.

"Someone must have reprogrammed them!"

"Then we're not alone," Jane says. "Someone's survived." It's an eerie feeling, and when the last bot crumples, Jane admits, at least to herself, that she's more than uneasy about all of this. The idea of leaving it unsolved starts prickling in her gut, and her escape plan is starting to seem further and further away. "Come on." She waves her hand and they follow. That's one thing she does like about this -- they know who's in charge, and they're not embarrassed by it. "Are there colonists left?" Jane asks. "Who the hell could be--"

She opens a door, finds herself staring down the barrel of a gun, attached to a quarian arm. 

"Uh, hi."

" _Hold your fire!_ I told you to be careful, _keelah_ , you don't know who could be--" The other quarian stops, stares right at Jane. " _Shepard._ "

"Tali?"

"I...I cannot--" She looks at her companions. "Put your weapons down."

"They're _Cerberus!_ "

"This is _Commander Shepard._ " Tali looks at her. "I never thought I would see you again."

" _Tali._ " Jane almost collapses against her, the weight of seeing and hearing her voice too much. "I wondered where you'd gone, I wanted to find you."

Tali makes a happy noise and pulls back. "We'll have to delay celebration for now. We're looking for one of our own."

Miranda steps in. "What is a quarian doing alone on a human colony?"

"Veetor is shy," Tali says, defensive. "He needed to go on pilgramage, but he did not want the stress of a crowded city or ship."

"She _means_ that he's unstable."

" _Prazza._ Shut up." Tali turns back to them. "We were sent to find him, but we've had trouble with the mechs. We think he survived whatever happened here, but he's likely suffered damage to his suit."

"He has an infection, and he's crazy," Prazza snaps. "Why are we wasting our time, let's find him--"

"We can help you," Jacob says. 

Prazza huffs. "We won't work with Cerberus."

"Work with me, then." Jane puts a hand on Tali's shoulder "You want me to find your guy, I'll find him. Maybe you can help me after."

Tali shakes her head. "I'll take the help, but the work I'm doing is too important. Even to come back to you, Shepard." She sighs. "But I am happy to see you again. And I'm glad it's still you calling the shots."

Jane grins. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

 

 

 

Miranda's angry they didn't take Veetor with them, but she lets it go once they leave the planet. Saying goodbye to Tali was hard, but Jane's stuck in a bad place now -- those people, taken by Collectors. They need her help, they need to be found. If the Illusive Man brought her back to do that, hell, she may as well make a second chance worth something. John would agree. And John _will_ agree, because she's going to _find_ him, one way or another. And then she's going to give him ten kinds of hell for dropping off the edge of the galaxy. 

"I thought you'd see things my way." The Illusive Man seems pleased.

"I see things the way I see them. And I'll be doing them the way I _want_ to do them from here on out."

"I take no issue with that. I've arranged a pilot to take you where you'll need to go while you're in my employ. He's the best, and he's a familiar face. I'll contact you with an update soon." He extinguishes his cigarette and the hologram grid dissolves around her. Jane still wants to hit him. 

"Holy _shit,_ Commander." Jane turns around, her throat tightening without permission. She won't cry, not here, not like this, not when _Joker_ \-- "Whoa! Easy there." 

Jane squeezes her arms around him as gently as she can, the top of her head bumping under his chin. "You asshole," she mutters. "I can't believe it's you." She pulls back, pushes him gently. "What the hell, Joker? Working for Cerberus?"

"Hey." He raises his hands. "Alliance took my wings. Cerberus gave 'em back. It's not my fault they're sometimes crazy. Besides, wait until you get a good look at our ride." He takes her hand, pulling her along until they reach a long stretch of windows. Jane sees sparks flying, light glinting off of metal, the words screaming at her -- 

_Normandy SR-2_.

"Son of a bitch."

"Yeah." Joker grins, putting an arm around her shoulder. "You can say that again."

 

 

 

Jane wonders who's bright _fucking_ idea it was to make the ceiling over her bed a window to the stars. She steps into her cabin, looks up, and _vomits._

"Shit, shit, _shit!_ " She kicks the wall, cleans up her own mess, and tries to find the damn controls. It has a panel, she can see the lip of it hanging out, and she finally sticks her head out and calls for some nice recruit to come in and close it for her, thanking him a bit too profusely. He flushes and salutes seven times. Jane looks over at the dossiers on her bedside table -- that cute little yeoman gave them to her. John would have had a field day with her. _She's got great hair, Jane. You should give her a kiss, Jane._ She shudders, too tired and sick to be hearing his voice so clearly.

"Gonna find you," she mutters. "And then I'm gonna kick your ass." She rolls over, intending to pick up one of the dossiers and read it through -- and when she opens her eyes, it's been six hours, and Miranda is paging her over the comm. 

 

 

 

Her ship has an AI on it. Jane doesn't know if she should be worried that it doesn't surprise her, but, really, it just doesn't.

EDI seems nice enough. 

Sometimes Jane talks to her before she goes to sleep.

 

 

 

Omega is a filthy, nasty, ugly, awful, dirty place. Jane loves it. Five minutes there, she meets up with another man on her dossier -- Zaeed Massani is rough, scarred, and ready to do what he's going to get paid to do. Jane welcomes him with open arms, sends a green-faced Jacob back to the ship. He looks more than relieved to go. 

"Poor sod," Zaeed says. Jane catches the corner of Miranda's mouth quirk up, just a bit.

She loves getting jostled by angry krogans, mistaken for a mercenary here or there. She loves the shitty booze, the stuff that makes your piss glow for three hours. She loves the dancers, she loves the beat -- she loves Aria T'Loak. 

Meeting her is like meeting the woman Jane might have wanted to be. There was a time, briefly, where she considered abandoning her training, running off to a place like Omega and making her way. But that time came and went, and Jane became military like the rest of the Shepard clan. Her mother was so damn proud. Aria tells her that Archangel, the first of Jane's recruitment quests, has been giving the mercenaries are hard time, and they'd done what she thought was impossible.

"Working together is that hard for them?" Jane asks.

"It's beyond that. They're collaborating. Sharing recruits, weapons, blueprints. It's almost incredible. But I digress. If you want to flush out Archangel, be my guest."

"What about the salarian?"

"Mordin?" Aria smiles, something knowing and pleasant on her lips. "He's here. Held up in the lower wards. You're welcome to take him, too, if you're collecting deadly friends. He's got quite the reputation." She leans forward. "As far as Archangel goes, they're recruiting freelancers to take him down. Whoever he is, he's done a number on their forces. If you're so interested in finding him, that's a good place to start." Aria leans back, waving a hand, and Jane knows their time together is, for now, at an end. "Do let me know if you need anything else, Commander."

Jane nods and lets herself be escorted away, back to Miranda and Zaeed. 

"You'd like us to join up with them?" Miranda asks. Zaeed cackles. "It's a rough plan, but it should work."

"S'long as we get to shoot at somethin', yeah?" Zaeed cracks the knuckles of one hand -- Miranda grimaces. "After you, Shepard."

Jane spare Miranda one fleeting, sympathetic glance before she heads to the little room in Afterlife to sign away her life.

 

 

 

What Jane does not expect, when she finds Archangel, is that he should be two people. One human, one turian, and on the defensive. They are a pair, defending themselves, and one breaks away to grapple with her, trading silent nods with one another. Miranda and Zaeed are fighting off mercenaries -- Jane is proving to one half of a hurricane that she isn't here to kill them. 

"Who are you?" Metallic voice, low, distorted. 

"Jane Shepard, commander of the Normandy."

"Shepard's dead. Normandy's gone. Common knowledge." They throw a punch, Jane ducks. There's something so familiar about the style, something she recognizes. 

"Yeah, well, consider this insider information." She rolls, kicks out, but they're too fast for her. " _Shit!_ " A blade at her throat, hands gripping the weak point of her armor. Jane uses her height to her advantage and butts her head, hard, against their chin. They shout, the knife clatters to the ground, and Jane draws her gun. "I am not here to kill you. I'm here to help you. So take off the helmets, and let's start seeing faces." Behind her, Miranda and Zaeed file in, the door shutting and locking behind them. The two halves of Archangel look at one another. The turian reaches for the clasps of his helmet, shucking it off and groaning appreciatively.

" _Damn,_ that feels good."

Jane almost lowers her weapon. Almost. " _Garrus?_ "

"The very same." He bows before elbowing his partner. "Come on, man, it's her." A quick shake of the head. "It's _her._ I know it." Garrus glances over at her, eyes smiling, faceplates shifting appreciatively. 

Carefully, the other one brings his hands up, undoes the clasps of his helmet, and lifts it off his head.

This time, Jane lowers her gun. Drops it, actually. It clatters, echoes around the room, louder than the shouts of the mercs downstairs.

" _John._ "

"Hey, Janey." Voice raspy, a beard crawling over his cheeks.

 _You look like dad,_ she almost says, but she can't. The words catch, the gun jams, the howling freezes outside and around them the air is still. She stands until she doesn't think she can anymore, and throws herself at him. And he catches her, his cheeks scratching hers. She will let herself cry, here. Maybe she might have told herself she wouldn't, but this is good. This is fine. This is enough. 

This is her _brother._

 

 

 

John hates her cabin.

After he's gotten back, after they've dragged Garrus onto the ship, his face blue with his own blood and bruises, after the surgeons have patched up an old friend -- John trails after her and Jane pulls him in behind her, and they lay there on the bed, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the endless reaches of space.

Someone's opened the fucking panel.

"Did it occur to no one that this was maybe in poor taste?"

"It's not so bad," she lies. This is the first time she's looked through it without puking. "Miranda says you have your own room."

"That Miranda," John murmurs. Then: "That yeoman, though."

"Don't. Don't even start." 

John sighs, putting his hands behind his head. Jane tucks herself under his arm and closes her eyes. "I need to shave," he mutters.

"You really do."

He takes a breath, shaky and unreliable -- Jane wonders if he's suffocating, but he finally exhales. "It's been a long two years."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't say that," he says. "You say that, you might make me cry."

"You're already crying."

He pauses. "Damn."

"Hey John?"

"Hmm?"

"Sleep on the floor, okay?"

"Should be better than where I've been sleeping that last two years." Jane sits up. "Garrus is the worst roommate. Great partner if you wanna dismantle organized crime, but--" He shrugs, rolls off the bed and stands. "I'm gonna shave and go bug Joker."

"We should really talk--"

"Let's do that later," he says. He comes around and kisses her forehead. "Food and friends, Jane. Like I said--" He smiles and backs up toward the door. "It's been a long couple of years."


End file.
